New
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: It’s not the classic story of boy meets girl. JamesRebecca. For Ariana.


**A/N: This is a new pairing – my first time ever writing them, but this pairing has been writing about before. I had the concept of New Years in my head and this couple popped into my head. I'm really excited to get started, even though I'm sure no one will probably appreciate it, but I'm excited regardless. Hey, I'm open minded like that. **

**Anyway, this is a gift for Ariana (Underneath All Elsewhere - you want some serious stories? Go here!) for she has made me appreciate the many layers of Rebecca – that she's not the she-devil everyone usually perceives her to be, but a person with feelings and emotions, and the underappreciated James. So, this is for you. I hope you enjoy, and Happy Holidays.**

**Disclaimer: A show that started out with annoying stereotypes, and a ridiculously short last season? Yeah, no. Not mine.**

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**New**

It's not the classic story of boy meets girl.

It's not the classic story of boy and girl meeting and magically kissing in the rain, doing all of those clichéd things expected in old black and white movies that end with the boy and girl riding off into the sunset, looking absolutely blissfully smitten without each other.

No, it's quite the contrary. It's not ugly, but just completely unexpected.

The brunette smiles gratefully, taking her newly signed out book from the kind old librarian. The middle-aged woman goes into a kind smile, making the crow's feet in the corners of her eyes appear more.

"Thanks, Mrs. Turner."

"Oh, it's no problem, dear. Have a good day, Rebecca."

"You too."

Rebecca takes the book, _Catcher in the Rye_, and is excited to read it for the umpteenth time. She's so excited to uncover the mystery of this book even though she's read about Holden and his theory of everyone around him being fake and phony. It's so twisted and intricate to her, so adjusting the strap of her black tote bag which has her English binder in there, along with a cell phone and the occasional lip gloss, her dark brown eyes skim every word. But Rebecca is too wrapped up in the content of the familiar book. Her footsteps drag her to the entrance of the library.

It would be smooth on another day on this breezy day, but on another figure slightly collides into her and throws her equilibrium off. The book falls from her slender fingers, as an arm wraps around her waist to steady her before Rebecca can actually hit the ground on her butt.

Pretty blue eyes are staring back at her, and the owner looks alarmed.

"Oh, God," his voice is deep and rich, echoing in her ears for the first time. Rebecca really needed to stop staring (oh god, she's gaping) at this tall, handsome stranger. " – I'm so sorry."

"No, no," she answers, shaking her head lightly and James takes his arm back and Rebecca steadies herself. She lightly dusts her blue jeans, and suppresses the blush rising in her face. Whether it's from sheer embarrassment or something more, she's really not sure. "It was my fault totally."

"Here's your book," he says, after he glances at the book. "Oh, you're reading _Catcher in the Rye_. Cool."

"Yeah. I just get too carried away with that book sometimes. It's one of my favourite ones."

"Me too," he says, with a small smile, and introduces himself to this quite, pretty, dark brown-eyed stranger. "I'm James."

"Rebecca," she says, finally, and takes his offered hand and shaking it.

--

Baseball practice is pretty methodic.

Stand on the mound. Wind up, and pitch. Watch person at bat strike out three times. Coach stuffs his face with more take-out sushi (uh, sorry…sushee) while yelling something along the lines of, "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' 'BOUT, GARRETT!"

Oh, that's weirdly kind (angry) of Coach Keller, so being the polite guy he is, James gives a short nod.

A couple of months later, James bonds with Rebecca ("Rebecca Giselle Howard," she explains one day, with a playful laugh after she takes a delicate sip of her strawberry-banana smoothie. "I'm part French, but even so, I think my parents hate me.") over the ups and downs of classical rock, and stupid stereotypes that are quite funny and comical.

Turning his head slightly under his ball clap, he sees Rebecca smile and wave. He smiles back.

(It's a new year, a new friendship – James thinks Rebecca isn't as mean as people regard her. Typical high school ambience. It's sad, really.)

--

"So, we're friends, right?"

"Sure. Of course, I consider us friends," Rebecca answers, with a mysterious smile. The coffee barista hands her the medium-sized tea the way she likes it – with a little bit of cream and her guilty pleasure (sugar). She's so immune to the whispers, and the stares. James is not just someone she can talk to because of his personality and easy-going demeanour but they're kindred spirits – fallen prey to both halves of the legendary (redundant, and even repetitive) Chase & Zoey romance.

Her slightly shorter hair brushes her bare shoulders, courtesy of the off-the-shoulder top she buys last weekend in a little vintage shop on campus. Her light make-up consisted of purple eyeshadow that accentuates her eyes, and a light coat of pink lip gloss.

"So, what's you in a nutshell?"

"What about you?"

James laughs, bag strap over his shoulder and his hands absent-mindedly in his pockets.

"Oh, so question with a question method."

Rebecca winks, lightly nudging him as they walk to English class, "Oh, darn. You've caught on to my method. Impressive."

"I'm just perceptive like that," James replies, with a laugh as she lightly sips on her coffee. Eyeing her, she catches his gaze. "But seriously, what makes you tick?"

"Purple with the occasional green, chicken alfredo, reading and writing poetry and soccer – I played it last year at my old school when I took a break from here and just got really good. I also played a little volleyball but I don't like it much," she rattles off her favourite colour, sports, and hobbies. Rebecca puts everything into her poetry while juggling soccer games to keep her mind occupied. With the sole intention of hating soccer, she actually grows to like it and plays for often. "These things are what make me tick. Oh, and the occasional poetry slam."

"You don't look like the _Bend It Like Beckham_ type if girl, but that's so cool," the blond teenager answers, intrigued.

"Yeah, and _we_ shouldn't look like the late type either. We're doing Shakespeare. Come on," her lips, pull into a playful smile, her eyes twinkling.

(James often wonders if Rebecca can actually feel his pulse dully thudding under the pads of her fingers when she touches his wrist. Maybe, it sounds stalkerish, but still he wonders.)

--

Rebecca ponders all of the things that are blue for some random reason.

The ocean, the sky when there isn't a cloud in the atmosphere, the wrapping paper that hides the birthday present she gets in October, her comforter with the mix of dark purple intertwined, and _James Garrett's eyes_.

(His face floats into her subconscious – and then she wakes up.)

--

"So, how was your Thanksgiving?"

"Nothing that traumatizing. Just eating one of my grandmother's "new" concoctions which consisted of peanut butter flavoured mashed potatoes," James explains, and shudders slightly. "Now, I hate them – mashed potatoes and peanut butter, but it always helps to have Poison Control's number handy."

Rebecca laughs, and brushes her bangs out of her eyes because it's breezy on the day of December.

"Nothing's worse than watching your intoxicated aunt hitting on the mail guy," Rebecca tells him, her nose wrinkled as she replays the memory of her Aunt Susan semi-flashing a mailman that looks like he's in his late twenties and quite traumatized. "No strange food, but still quite scarring."

At least, she's able to enjoy the heavy snow (20-30 cm enough?) that is dumped on Boston, but closure is just two blocks down. And Rebecca is lucky to get that Thanksgiving gift. A double whammy comes in the form of a heart-to-heart in the girls' lounge.

(Rebecca can live with being acquaintances with Zoey Brooks. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe.)

"I missed you, though."

"Me too, Becky," James replies, and then looks alarmed for a split second. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

Brushing her brunette fringed bangs out of her eyes once more, her face breaks out into a smile and she finds the smallest of comfort in James' hug. James wraps his arms around her waist, the scent of vanilla and jasmine wafting past his nose and filling his nostrils. She pulls away, shaking her head, smiling.

"No, I don't mind that at all."

Becky sounds like nails on a chalkboard – but smooth when James says it. She wants to add another afterthought but the sprinklers unexpectedly douse them with cold water and they're running away, wet.

(And sorta giggling on her part. Maybe.)

--

James isn't a dancing sort of guy. He has musicality and a sense of rhythm, but he's not just a ballroom, twirl-a-pretty-girl-and-smoothly-catch-her type of guy. But he's capable.

So, he won't dance, but a poetry slam is just dancing with words, and phrases.

Snaps, not claps, James thinks with the slightest twinge of humor, making his lips twitch into a smile.

"Okay, that was Patricia Rosen with an…interesting slam entitled _Burning Coffee Stains_. But now, we have a newcomer to the stage. Let's give a warm welcome to newcomer, James Garrett!"

Rebecca touches his arm, sending a reassuring smile his way.

"You can do this, James. Just take everything you feel, and turn it into a kick ass slam poem."

There are snaps with the hint of clapping, and he sighs and trying to compile his many thoughts into something that is actually stage-worthy.

(Get your dancing shoes on, Garrett, even though you're the only one with a pair. Nice.)

--

Rebecca loves Christmas, and not just because her parents buy her a new car but it's New Year Year's Eve that she appreciates deeply. The minutes, and second ticks away and 2008 is being melted away. The New Year party is really not her scene, so she leaves the lounge with punch cup in hand. The aftertaste isn't as sweet as she thinks, Rebecca grimaces and drops the plastic cup in the trash nearby. There's a wind that ruffles her dark brown hair and makes her hand to rub against the small goosebumps that pop up on her bare arms. She finds comfort in a wooden bench, crossing her legs, Converses on her feet

"11:56 pm," Rebecca sighs, to particularly no one. Four minutes until December 31, 2008 magically takes the leap into January 1, 2009. She's so immune to the buzz that dances around her pierced ears because she's heard so much of it. Rebecca's heard so many "out there" rumors about her, she can just either shrug it off like it doesn't matter, or laugh and realize that her fictional life is way interesting that the non-fictional life she leads at PCA. There will _always_ be things to say, but oh well.

A shadow looms over her – tall and almost stretched a quarter more than the owner's height.

"Hey, there you are. It's four minutes to New Years. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, James. Parties like that aren't my thing. Just not my scene," she shrugs, lightly. Brown meets blue and James can see contention, and slight fear, but her voice breaks the thirty-second silence. "I have a question for you."

"Ask away."

"Have you ever been exposed to something so long that you're just used to it?"

His eyebrows knit together, confused but he strives to answer, hoping it'll be the right answer. James hopes he'll be able to answer with the right words, only two and a half minutes until the new year comes in.

"Well, yeah. Everybody has. Solitude is fun until you realize you're used to it. Then it becomes scary," he explains. "It's not fun, and I'm glad I bumped you into at the library, and we bonded," he cracks a nervous smile. "That wasn't a scary experience at all. I don't regret that."

(11:58 pm. Tick. Tock. Tick.)

Rebecca looks into James' eyes – a beautiful shade of blue. They shine with all of the sincerity a person can possibly carry with them, after all, the eyes say a lot about a person, right? He's such a sweet guy and can honestly say that she's fallen for him. This kind stranger turned closest confidante. James believes Rebecca to be a deep, intricate personality. She never leaves him with enough, and the mystery surrounding her is perpetual, but he's so curious, so into her that he just can leave it alone.

It's 11:59, and their fingers just graze each other. It's totally small, so insignificant to the naked eye of a bystander having fun inside. To James and Rebecca, it's so electrifying.

Thirty seconds until the New Year and a new leaf is turned, and Rebecca's eyes travel downward to his full lips. Subconsciously, James finds himself studying all of her pretty, delicate features before all of these thoughts of smudging her neatly placed lip gloss, run through his head at road-runner speed.

(Raging testosterone. Oh, blame the testosterone.)

Lips collide gently at first, and then deepen. Rebecca plays with the little blond hairs at the base of his neck, while her fingers get entangled in his sandy blonde hair. His hands go and stroke her soft cheek. Rebecca pulls away first from the need of oxygen and the sounds of thunderous cheers of "Happy New Year!", leaving James shocked, and quite thrown with a new feeling he's never really felt before. And he's likes it.

"Oh, wow."

"Uhm," Rebecca says, blushing, her cheeks become rosy. "Yeah."

"Well, since it's a new year," James says, rubbing the back of his neck. He swallows, lightly. "New Years are for resolutions, new friendships, and new relationships."

"Did you just ask me out?"

"Yeah, I guess. I did," the blond replies, with an awkward (sort of cute to her) smile.

She smiles and places her manicured hand over his, staring him in the eyes, "Lucky for you, James, I really like you. And I trust you."

James sighs with relief flooding him, and pulls her into a warm embrace, pressing an almost intangible kiss to her cheek.

(He's _so_ taking the initiative by taking her out on their first official date of the year, as boyfriend and girlfriend.)

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**A/N: And that people, is my first James/Rebecca oneshot. That was fun to write actually. I hope you guys enjoyed that, and maybe, learned to appreciate this pairing like I have. I hope the characterizations didn't complete and totally suck. I have a new way to keep myself organized. Jersey Girl will come out one Monday if not later. I'm hoping for Sunday, because the snow is just inspiring so much writing out of me, it's ridiculous, really. But yeah. I have my forst ever Zogan oneshot so look out for that next week. **

**Please review my other things, and I like thorough review with more just "update". Thorough ones make me think you actually read the story and I connected with someone on a deep level. Hopefully, I did that here. Please review my newer pieces like Freckles & Unlikely. Thank you. **

**Oh, if you look at the character list for the section, you'll notice Vince and Rebecca have been added to the list. I did that because there are a considerable amount of stories written about them, and it wasn't fair to have those stories just floating around. So, there you go. Rebecca and Vince now have their own categories.**

**Ariana, I wrote this with you in mind, so I hoped you enjoy it. Thank you for helping me see so many of the other Zoey 101 pairings/friendship that could have been. You are so young, but you write with such a maturity and I appreciate that. I will personally make sure people read your pieces because it's a shame people aren't. They're really missing out. So, here is my gift to you. Happy holidays!**

**Everyone else is free to leave feedback as well. **

**-Erika **


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